


The Hale Fire

by makingitwork



Series: Peter/Stiles [40]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Injury, M/M, Magic, Spark Stiles, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all remember the half of Peter's burnt face</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hale Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by;
> 
> Ms_Whiskas who said 'Can we have some Stiles' agnst? He've done something that resulted in injured Peter. He blames himself. Maybe while learning how to deal/work with the spark?'

Stiles doesn't consider himself dangerous.

In fact, the idea is almost laughable. 

He's the brain behind things (behind Lydia), the one who has the outside-the-box ideas, the one who can try and save the day last minute by something in his mind clicking together, and the cogs spinning- he's the one who has the gut instinct on whether or not someone is to be trusted.

But he's not dangerous.

He's a nineteen year old boy, still trying to master his spark. 

'Stiles,' Peter groans, stretching on the blanket that's been laid out over the grass in the meadow. The late morning sunshine beats down onto both of them. 'Can we go home, now? I swear I'm getting sunburnt. I'm a wolf, Stiles. A were-wolf.  _Sunburnt._ Whoever heard of a sunburnt were-wolf?'

Stiles huffs a laugh from where he's standing two metres away, trying to control the flames he's sooting into the air and hovering. 'Deaton said I had to master this.' He grins, shooting his mate a lop-sided smile 'you're just worried I'm gonna be way more powerful than you.'

'Yeah,' Peter chuckles 'that's exactly what it is.'

'I want you to know this is very destructive to my self-confidence,' Stiles teases, turning to face Peter, and Peter sits up happily- but Stiles' flames following his rush of happiness, and before he knows what's happening, Peter is being plunged back into a fierce steam of fire. 

It happens in a blur, Peter is roaring in pain, magic crackles and the fire gets stronger with Stiles' horror-

and then ringing silence.

...

...

...

Stiles cries into his chest, and Peter holds him carefully. 

'Stop crying, darling,' he pleads 'it's okay. It's gonna be alright.'

'It's not alright!' Stiles hiccups, and he pulls back to look at Peter's face, his soulmate's face. The entire left side of it is horrible burnt, deep, crude creases forcing one eye shut, dragging down the dip of his cheek and ear. Even were-wolf healing won't do anything for a few weeks. 'I'm so sorry- I'm so-' his hands are shaking, and his magic pulses beneath his skin but he refuses to connect to it, punishes it and thus himself, forcing it deeper 'I love you so much,' he whimpers, burying his face into Peter's chest. 

'Stiles, it's okay-'

'I  _hurt_ you.' Stiles whispers, disgusted at himself 'I  _hurt_ you.'

'Stiles,' Peter grunts a quiet laugh 'it's okay. I still love you, I'm still here. I'm okay.'

...

...

...

Peter pretends to sleep.

But he can feel Stiles' stare in the the middle of the night. It's almost nice- he spends nights awake watching Stiles and now Stiles is watching him. And whispering. About how much he loves Peter, how sorry he is, and Peter had feel the love radiating off Stiles in waves. Stiles' feather light fingers tracing over the burnt side of his face- but it doesn't hurt. 'I wish I could draw your pain,' he whispers, kissing the underside of Peter's jaw 'I wish I could find away to get rid of my spark. I love you- so much-' he chokes and Peter blinks away tears, opening his eyes to the darkness, and wraps an arm tight around Stiles. 

'Stiles, sweetheart-'

'Go to sleep,' Stiles insists 'rest,'

So Peter does.

...

...

...

Three weeks later, Peter is full healed. 

And he's worried about Stiles.

His boy bursts randomly with magic, and at pack meetings, Ben and Deaton watch Stiles warily, as though the boy may burst at any moment. Other people have started noticing too. Stiles' eyes burst with amber, light appears in the darkness for a flicker of a moment before disappearing. Stiles is more jittery, more fidgety than normal- so a lot. His hair stands on end not because of copious amounts of gel, but because the electricity running through his blood.

Whenever Peter kisses him, he can feel vibrations- buzzing under Stiles' lips. 

'Peter, I couldn't find that vegetarian alternative you like- so I just got that low brand stuff? Is that okay?' Stiles turned, setting the brown bag on the table and staring at Deaton, Ben and Peter. He arched an eyebrow 'is everything okay?'

'No, Stiles,' Ben said softly, and Stiles choked, eyes meeting Peter's

'Is this a fucking intervention, Peter?'

'Stiles-'

'Nothing's wrong!' Stiles snaps, and Deaton raises his hands 

'Stiles, you shouldn't bottle up your magic like this- everyone can see the negative effects it's having.'

'There aren't any negative effects!' Stiles growls, 'I'm fine!' His eyes shine brilliantly, and he closes them tightly, gritting his jaw and breathing deeply, and when he opens them, his eyes are back to normal. 'See? I'm fine. Everything's fine. I don't need to talk about my spark and won't on my spark all the time- I'm still Stiles, I'm still human, I still wanna do normal stuff.' He turns back to the shopping bag, and notices that his hand is one fire.

He stares at it.

And suddenly he can't breathe.

He can't hear anything over the pulsing of blood in his ears, and suddenly the three men have sat him on the floor- they're mouths are moving, but Stiles' can't hear what they're saying. He can't hear anything. There's something wet and sticky on his lip, and he touches it- he's bleeding, why is he bleeding? Peter's blurred face appears before him- his mate is so beautiful. He got so lucky with Peter. He won the biological lottery.

'...panic attack...' Peter is saying 'you have to....just follow my...breathe...'

Stiles gulps air, follows the rising and falling of Peter's chest, and suddenly everything's okay. He's just a little dizzy.

He smiles weakly at the worried faces 'I'm fine?'

'Stiles,' Ben looks angry but firm 'you cannot bottle your spark like this. You have to keep trying to master it.' He comes forward, and creates a glowing ball of light. Stiles recognises it from the earlier training sessions- it's contacting his spark directly, and his own little burst of amber shines on the surface of his skin, his spark curls warmly around the orb, and Stiles hisses- wrenching himself up and out of Peter's warm embrace, retracting his spark, and Ben shakes his head in disappointment 'Stiles-'

'Stiles,' Deaton takes over 'you have to think about your own well-being!'

'I won't ever hurt him again!' Stiles roars, and silence falls. Peter stares up at him, lips parted, and Stiles runs his hands through his hair in agony 'I won't, okay?' He's yelling, but his voice is hurt 'I won't ever hurt him, not ever. I'd rather be skinny, poor and defenceless Stiles than ever...' he curls in on himself, and Peter wraps him up in his arms. 

'Stiles, darling,' he shushes, but Stiles just sniffles 

'No, Peter. No, I won't. Not ever, not ever again.'

'You're hurting me now, baby,' Peter whispers, and Stiles looks up at him with wet lashes 'by hurting yourself this way. You need to go back to your lessons. Need to learn to control it again.' 

'He's right, Stiles,' Ben whispers, and Stiles nods his head miserably. 

...

...

...

It takes a while for Stiles to be comfortable using his spark around Peter again.

But when he does Peter's face breaks into the most joyful smile Stiles has ever seen. 

They were just relaxing outside the Hale house, when a cat had cuddled onto Stiles' lap and Peter had pouted jealously so Stiles had laughed, and flown the cat over to him. 

Peter tried to hide his smile, but Stiles had seen it anyway.

And that made everything alright.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt and comment you gorgeous fiends


End file.
